


Night Terrors

by MillenniumHyperboloid



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Other, because im a sucker for those, found family trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-24 18:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19179274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillenniumHyperboloid/pseuds/MillenniumHyperboloid
Summary: It’s not helpful when you need to be strong for a 7 year old and you’re barely considered a man now. Especially when he keeps having nightmares and his advisors won’t even let him cry.





	1. Chapter 1

He recalled the first time he traveled this part of the palace. His late father had just passed away, he had been a dear friend of the pharaoh. He was more or less passed onto his care, though at the time since he was old enough to cloth and feed himself he was deemed more than prepared to go about his studies without a caretaker. 

That wasn’t to say he was completely alone. Quite the opposite, there was always Siamun or one of the priest elders careful guidance provided at a moment’s notice. He never felt like an orphan, and for that he was eternally grateful to his pharaoh’s generosity. 

His current mentor he met the day after his father’s burial. A serious figure he knew better than to test’s patience, their first interaction set the tone early for how his lessons would go. He wanted to be a magician, so he could always be of service to this family he owed so much to. His teacher seldom praised him, and Mahaad didn’t expect him to but he was happy when he overheard the older man tell Siamun he was pleased with the progress he was making.

This was years ago, he was to be officially recognized as a magician come his next birthday. He had mixed feelings, though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because so much of his identity was wrapped out his studies, but he knew the real challenges were yet to come his way. He’d never been in a real duel, in those situations he couldn’t afford to second guess himself.

In those years, there was only one ripple in Mahaad’s journey through his apprenticeship. 

The pharaoh, a man Mahaad was sure was too old to father a child was blessed with a son 7 years ago. Out of pride, he awarded the child a millennium item, a responsibility not even given to the most seasoned of priests out of fear for their side effects.  
The way Priest Akhenaden described it was that as a member of the pure bloodline, there should be no reason the prince would have any issues with an item. Mahaad could tell there were gaps in the story, but as a child he wasn’t allowed to even look in the man’s face, let alone ask questions. 

He kept his ears open to bits and pieces amongst maids and Siamun in regards to the prince’s early development. From what he gathered over the years, it was a miracle that the child was able to breath that first night of conception.

He was sure there was more to it. For now, he was prioritizing making sure his prince was safe tonight. 

There had been issues as of late with his night habits. Siamun had caught him at the palace gate more than once, it was starting to tax on the elder’s mental and physical health so Mahaad volunteered to take over. There was mild protest at first, other priests advised it was too large a responsibility to give to a student. It was his teacher who was able to persuade Siamun in the end, and it was there that Mahaad was for the first time formally introduced to his prince. 

This was a year ago, he was shocked when he realized the prince was 6. He looked like a toddler. He was very polite, even shy, something that took him off guard watching the child look at him with ruby eyes. At the end of the introduction, he tugged on Mahaad’s robe and looked at him earnestly.

“I’m coming with you?” 

He didn’t know what that meant at the time, but he’d realize in minutes the prince was asking to sleep in the same quarters. He learned quickly from there that the contributor to the prince’s night time excursion were from his mother’s recent death. It was discussed at the time it was alright, the prince was old enough to room by himself at that point anyway and at the funeral he didn’t display any large sadness. He didn’t even cry, which shocked Siamun but not Mahaad. He knew what he was feeling.  
“I’m sorry dear prince, let’s go to your room.”

There was a backlog of emotions, he could tell. He was afraid to speak most of the time he was in the prince’s presence, unsure of what words would trigger an emotion too complex for the child. He learned this the hard way upon realizing that even with the gentleness he had replied to his prince on that day, the loneliness that passed his eyes before he was guided by a servant to his quarters left a lump in Mahaad’s throat.

He knew before he would die for royal family, but something about that first interaction made it more personal. He would give his life for his prince. 

Mahaad eventually found him at the library, sitting on a table reading over an old story of Serqet. He felt a lump in his throat again, it subsided when the prince noticed his presence. He gave him a knowing look, already placing down the scroll in preparation for his escorting back to bed. Mahaad was constantly surprised at his level of maturity, though he shouldn’t. They were too similar, in another life he could see himself calling the boy his brother. 

Before being the lost child who gingerly wrapped small fingers around his hand, he was the son of the Pharaoh. He was his avatar for the gods.

And he liked to pull at his hair as they walked along, wrapping a finger around brown crinkly strands. 

“When can I grow my hair out like you?”

He smiled at him. He was used to how his prince wouldn’t meet anyone’s face as he spoke, though Siamun was working hard to break that habit. The pharaoh never turns his face, it is his subjects who must look down in respect.

“In time...are you hungry?”

Atem looked across the hall at one of several kitchens in the palace. 

“I want kashkaval and bread.”

He knew Siamun was growing irritated that the prince wasn’t hungry at breakfast. It wouldn’t hurt to give the child one more night of late meals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk where this is going to go, it'll probably be another collection of head canons turned into small stories that might have a resolution. 
> 
> hope y'all enjoy


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The priests in training decide to spend the day outside while Mahaad contemplates his place in his prince's life.

The prince had fallen asleep during a history lessons again. If his teacher was getting annoyed, he was good at hiding it. Siamun was given a special luxury of ‘allowed to scold royalty’ that he was sure most of the prince’s care takers didn’t envy in the slightest. Mahaad had walked in on them mid lecture and he could tell by the way Siamun’s eyes narrowed further at his presence he was partially being blamed. Mahaad hadn’t stopped Atem’s midnight excursions so much as made sure he wasn’t alone or potentially in danger, but he knew if the elder man had his way they’d have used a spell to knock him out as soon as the sun set. 

The magician in training glanced over at the prince’s teacher, he didn’t recognize this one. That wasn’t remarkable, the prince had been going through his lessons much quicker than expected which was leading to a high turn over rate as he grew increasingly impatient with the pace of his teachers. Mahaad understood his restlessness better than anyone, finding it odd at first that he was able to relate so well to the pharaoh to be when their paths would be so much different down the line. Isis had to remind him from time to time that he was becoming too casual, he’d forgotten more than once to bow when the child would run over at one of his lessons in greeting. 

It was odd, their prince was called cold more than once since he’d gained a reputation for rarely displaying much emotion. He was never rude outright, but more than once Mahaad noticed a slight change in pitch after being told he couldn’t go on a trip with his father. He could tell the child was realizing how different a generation his family was compared to the dynasties he studied. He couldn’t help noticing the wistful glances when he saw Isis and Mahaad walking towards the duel practice fields. 

Atem hadn’t been on very many military trips with the pharaoh, or even had proper lessons with his father. More often it was being passed over to priests or a teacher, neither of which felt qualified to travel with the prince. If anything were to happen to the pharaoh’s only heir...

There was too much stress around looking after him outside of the palace walls. 

Today he was allowed to watch Mahaad and the other young men in training. They were given a free day to practice independently, and since the weather was cool enough to be in the fairgrounds Shada recommended they take advantage of it with a handball break. 

There weren’t any children the prince’s age to have his own game, but he seemed content to sit under a tree with Isis to watch when she offered him. 

Before the men began, Isis called Mahaad over. She smiled at him before helping him tie his hair up.

“If you’re not careful Set will pull at it to get an edge.”

She was smirking at him, at her side he could tell the prince was trying to hide a smile but it was reaching his eyes. Atem was still at that phase where he tried too hard to act older than he was, something that his friend was able to see right through. He was glad that Isis wasn't intimidated by the prince like their friends were, considering her status amongst a male dominated group he shouldn't have been surprised. He nodded a thanks to her before returning to playing field, ignoring the glare Set was sending his way over the hold up. 

It was a breath of a fresh air being able to run around, he didn’t remember how freeing it was to be outside when the sun wasn't scorching the tile. Honestly it felt odd playing around with men his own age with how often it felt like his days were spent indoors studying. 

Perhaps that was why when presented with the opportunity to watch over the prince at night he was the first to volunteer. When he realized the pattern with the boy’s nighttime habits, he proposed a deal with him, Siamun, and the palace guards. 

Atem was allowed to go on a night time walk with him, but never alone. If he was caught breaking their pact, he made a promise to Siamun that they’d leave guards at his door all hours of the night. But Mahaad wasn’t worried that he would as much as Siamun was at the time. He could tell the other was as happy to have an excuse to go outside as he was.

The prince had gotten closer to him shortly after. He became more talkative, maybe because as he was getting older he had gained more confidence. But his heart was saying a part of it could be the prince wasn’t given much room to begin with to speak to others casually.

Mahaad realized this when he saw how eerily similar the young prince’s daily schedule was to his own. In the morning, lectures where advisors circled the boy filled the hours directly after breakfast. The prince saw Siamun more often than his father, but that had been the norm for some time now. There was an increasingly shared joke amongst servants that the prince wouldn’t notice if the Pharaoh didn’t return home one day. Mahaad did his best not to fight every person in his path over it.

His stress from the day would fade quickly when he would take the prince along the palace’s garden paths. It was never awkward, the prince happily followed closely. He’d ramble about anything he found interesting from his lessons, or something Siamun had done that day. He wasn’t worried of boring Mahaad, and Mahaad never had to feign interest. 

He learned quickly there was a mischievous air to the boy, indirectly changing Mahaad’s view of Siamun to one with more sympathy. It was hard not to find it amusing when hearing one side of a story where Siamun was frustrated at finding an entire family of stray cats in the prince's library, only to hear the origins and resolution later that night from his prince's perspective. It made more sense why there was a a tinge of frustration in Siamun's voice when it came to their prince. 

But for himself, he couldn’t get frustrated with Atem. Maybe because he could trust the other not to test his patience, though Mahaad prided himself on generally being able to keep a level head. He knew there was more to it, he was being looked up to. There was a childish idolization he noticed when Isis pointed out that Atem was starting to follow him around like a lost puppy. For all their prince’s maturity for his age, he should’ve seen it coming that the other would latch on to the first chance to act his age with someone who wasn't his caretaker and Mahaad had been his only outlet. 

Siamun warned him not to be indulgent and he was trying his best, but he wasn’t exactly in any position to tell his prince no when he’d ask for another demonstration of his magical prowess late into the night when the other refused to fall asleep. 

It was something the older boy felt pride in, though he knew it was inappropriate given their statuses. He was happy to leave a practice duel early if it meant showing his prince a magic trick, his mentor allowing it once he realized what the young man had been up to. Mahaad wondered more than once what it would’ve been like to have a younger sibling or even when he would get his own apprentice one day. He’d like to think it wouldn’t be too different.

He was sweating at this point, Set had been consistently chasing after him during their game. He managed to evade him with a switch in his foot work, looking over his shoulder to see Isis and his prince cheering. He tried not to be embarrassed, but he couldn’t help the surge of energy it gave him. 

By the end of their first match his team was behind in points but the prince was still running up to him impressed. Karim and Shada respectfully bowed when Atem came over, Mahaad having to remind himself that he needed to be doing that as well. When he glanced back up, he noticed the crinkle in the boy’s nose.

“You’re gonna win the next one, right?”

Mahaad bent his knees as he raised his head to meet the prince’s face. 

“If I don’t I give you permission to shave my head.”

He felt pride swell in his chest when Isis and Atem were giggling at him. She offered him a skin pouch of water that he gratefully accepted. He returned feeling eager to take on Set, the man was 2 years younger than him but with his first growth spurt he was already towering over most of the priests. It gave him an edge with practice duels and sports, but Mahaad had the prince counting on him.

He couldn’t afford to let him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know that feeling when one of the younger neighbor kids think you're cool? that's basically this chapter


End file.
